


Different Tastes

by ElliottRookArchive (ElliottRook)



Category: Digimon Tamers
Genre: Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-07
Updated: 2002-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliottRook/pseuds/ElliottRookArchive
Summary: Rika and her mother have never seen eye-to-eye, but neither one has ever put much effort into it.
Kudos: 4





	Different Tastes

Rika stared at the mirror.

Lord, that dress was ugly.

It was...pink.

_Pink! Eww!_

Her mother had picked it out. Rika was merely holding it up to her body and was already feeling her head start to hurt.

"I wanna hurl," she said aloud.

Renamon materialized behind her. "Your mother seemed to think it was quite pretty."

"My mother is mentally ill."

Renamon was silent.

Rika dropped the dress to the floor, not caring should the netty, itchy fabric become wrinkled, or if the ribbons and frills became mussed. She looked in the mirror at her own clothes, of her own taste. The shirt with the broken heart that she wore so often.

It was punky, true, but all her clothes were punky. Even her hair was punky. The way she wore it had started off one summer as a way to get it off her neck, but she saw how punky it looked and liked it, and continued wearing it. The orangy streaks were natural, but they didn't look it. They looked punky.

 _I_ like _being punky._ It kept people from getting too close.

Except, of course, her fellow tamers. They didn't scorn her, they accepted her. Maybe that was why she could stand to be around them--they didn't try to change her.

Occasionally, she wondered if maybe they _liked_ her the way she was.

It didn't matter, though. _Nothing, really, matters._

She flopped onto her futon-bed, put punky music into her punky CD player and put on her punky headphones, and started playing around with her cards from the Digimon game.

_Just because the digimon are real is no excuse for me to lose my edge. Besides, there are a lot worse ways to spend a Friday night._

That dress was still there on the floor.

She could _feel_ it, laying there behind her. It was disrupting the energy flow in her room. It didn't belong. It wasn't punky.

She finally got fed up. She dropped her cards to the floor in frustration, clipped her CD player to her belt, and tromped over to the dress. She gathered up all the frills and ruffles, and took them outside her room.

She simply dropped it on the floor of the breezeway, but then it struck her that it might disrupt the energy flow there, too. That could mess up the balance in her room. She took it to the outer end of the breezeway and dropped it down among the bushes, on the ground. There. That got it out of the way.

She went back into her room and finished her card game with herself. She won against that imaginary other player. She always did--and she wasn't easy on herself, either.

She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes, concentrating on her music. The drums, the bass. _Where would this world be without bass boost?_

There was a tap at her door. She knew it was her grandmother--her mother was afraid to enter her room. "Yeah?"

"May I come in?"

"I guess." Rika did not move from her bed.

Mrs. Makino pushed the sliding door to one side and entered, the dress in her arms. The thought crossed Rika's mind that it looked a lot better now, streaked with mud.

"I heard something rustling, and then I found this, out in the bushes. Know anything about it?"

"Only that I hate it," Rika said. Tact was not high on her list of admirable qualities. There were people who would say that her list of admirable qualities was short, if not nonexistent.

"Your mother liked it."

"So? Why'd she go and buy it, anyway?"

"Because she was trying to please you. She wants you to like her, Rika."

"Tell her to start paying attention to what I like instead of forcing her likes on me."

"Can I sit?" her grandmother asked.

Rika sat up, and moved off to one side of her bed, motioning for her grandmother to sit next to her. "Sure, Grandma."

Mrs. Makino sat next to her. "Honey, I agree with you."

Rika was too shocked to comment on the "honey". "You do?"

"Your mother simply won't make any effort to understand you. So I wish you would try to understand her."

Rika looked down. "But all she likes is clothes, and fashion. I don't know anything about that."

"You don't have to. Why don't you just try spending some time with her?"

Rika frowned. "Doing what?"

"Well, why don't you agree to do what your mom likes for an hour in exchange for doing what you like for an hour?"

"Do you think she'd do that?"

"Beats me. Why don't you ask her? Do it for me, honey."

Rika sighed. Her grandmother stood and started to leave.

"Grandma?"

Mrs. Makino paused in the doorway. "Yes, Rika?"

"I'll do it if you throw away the dress for me."

She smiled. "How about if I wash it and give it to goodwill?"

Rika nodded. "Whatever. I just never want to see it again."

When her grandmother had disappeared into the house, Rika went to her mother's room and tapped on the door.

"Come in," Mrs. Makino said, cheerily.

Even her nightgown was fashionable, Rika realized. Her femininity was obvious in every frill of the room. Rika thought it just looked cluttered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon," her mother cooed.

Rika buried her head in a hand. "My name is Rika."

"Sorry."

"Are you going shopping tomorrow?" Rika asked. _That's a really stupid question! She's_ always _going shopping! Every Saturday!_

"Yes, why?"

"Well...I was thinking, maybe I could go along." Rika quickly took care of any blissful thoughts her mother might have had about Rika becoming girly. "Not to shop for me, but to just...you know, hang out with you. We could do what you like for half the time, and then I could take you to the places that I like to go and all..."

"That sounds wonderful, honey!" Mrs. Makino squealed.

Rika sighed. "Okay, then. Good night."

"Good night, hon--eh, Rika."

Rika returned to her room. What _had_ she gotten herself into?

* * *

The next morning, Rika chose a black pair of jeans and a black belt with a double row of silver-rimmed holes all the way around, and a jade-green t-shirt with the card game logo on the front. It looked rainy out, so she pulled on her denim jacket.

She sat at the breakfast table, across from her mother.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Mrs. Makino asked.

"Yeah. Got a problem with it?"

Mrs. Makino sighed. "No...I just wish...nevermind."

Mrs. Makino herself was wearing a mint green spaghetti-strap ankle-length dress over a white t-shirt with matching mint green trim.

Rika poured herself a bowl of cereal and reached for the milk. She really didn't want to hear what her mother wished, so she didn't prod.

Her grandmother brought a frying panful of eggs to the table and emptied it onto a plate. Mrs. Makino put some on the elder Mrs. Makino's plate, then Rika's, then her own. Rika started eating, waving away the toast with jelly her mother offered. "I'm not _that_ hungry."

"I wish I had your willpower, darling," Mrs. Makino said.

"It's Rika..."

"Still, if I could eat like that, my job would be _so_ much easier..."

"It's not willpower, it's a small appetite."

"Whatever you call it, it would make my job easier."

Rika rolled her eyes and continued to fork down eggs and cereal, sipping, occasionally, at orange juice.

Finally they finished breakfast. Rika and her mother left together, walking, headed for the place where all the clothing stores were.

The elder Mrs. Makino sat, watching them go off.

"Oh, honey, I hope you realize how much you need her."

Whether she was talking about Rika or Mrs. Makino, only she knew.

* * *

Rika was scowling. Her mother was in the dressing room of this fancy clothing store, and she was waiting out on the bench.

The store smelled flowery. Her mother probably liked it, but it struck Rika as too strong. She was breathing through her mouth, trying to avoid a headache.

_Why did I ever agree to do this?_

"Rika, could you come here a moment, please?" Mrs. Makino called.

Rika looked over her shoulder at her mother. "Yeah, I guess." She went over to her mother and stood.

"I simply can't decide between these two dresses, I was wondering if you could decide for me?"

Rika raised an eyebrow, but shrugged, indicating that she was game.

Her mother reached behind the dressing room door and pulled out a yellow sundress. It had a raised waistline and an ankle-length skirt, with little ruffles along the neck, sleeves, and skirt. The material was kind of crinkly, _Seersucker,_ Rika remembered. _With a wide weave._ She also remembered never really liking wearing it. It always felt like it was creeping up on you, even when it was perfectly in place.

"Uh-huh...let's see the other one."

Her mother replaced the yellow dress and pulled out one of those that was a one-piece made to look like a two-piece. The "top" was a black tank with no frills save a simple teal Aztec-y motif along the neckline. The skirt was the same teal as the border.

"How could this even take any thought? This one, hands down," said Rika.

Mrs. Makino blinked. "I thought you'd say neither."

"Well, _I_ wouldn't wear either one if I didn't have to, but this is what you might call the lesser of two evils."

"What if you had to wear a dress?"

"This one...maybe. But I wouldn't be caught dead in that frilly, yellow...thing."

Mrs. Makino shook her head. "Let's go pay for this."

Rika shrugged and followed her mother to the register.

The teenaged salesclerk looked up from her fashion magazine to ring up the purchase. She glanced at Mrs. Makino. And blinked. She picked her magazine back up and flipped back a couple of pages. She found what she was looking for, and pushed an ad for a clothing line in Mrs. Makino's face. "That's you! Isn't it?"

Mrs. Makino blushed and smiled demurely, nodding. "Yes, that's me."

"Oh, wow! Could you autograph this?" The clerk was already fumbling for a pen.

"Sure..."

Rika sighed as her mother began chatting with the girl, and she herself faded into the background. _Oh well...we said we'd do what she likes for a while, and there's nothing she likes more than attention..._

"Is this your daughter that I read about in your interview in 'Fresh Look'?"

Rika looked up. She knew her name had been in the magazine, but she didn't realize that people actually remembered that the great Makino _had_ a daughter.

"Oh, yes, this is my daughter, Ruki. We're having a girl's day out," Mrs. Makino said, still all smiles.

"How cool! I mean, you see all these models in these mags and you wonder if any of them have lives outside the gym and the photo studio, and you come in here, and you're...totally real. That is so cool that you spend time with your daughter..."

Rika was sensible enough to avoid World War III and said nothing, but inwardly she rolled her eyes. _"Real" my foot..._

Finally, the two Makinos got away from the bubbly, talkative girl, and they headed outside.

"My turn," Rika said.

"It's almost noon, honey--"

"Rika."

"Rika--and I was thinking maybe we could eat...I think we both like that, more or less..."

Rika paused, and realized that she _was_ getting hungry. By the time they walked to anyplace decent to eat, she would be starving. "Okay."

"Great! I know this place just around the corner, Paulo's, you've never been there, but the company's had a few parties there, my photographer took me there once, it's really nice, candlelit, the very finest gourmet cooking..."

"Gourmet?"

"Why, yes, hon--Rika. Is that a problem?"

"Yes, it's a problem!"

"What's the matter with gourmet?"

Rika rolled her eyes. "Lots of things! One, I can't drink wine and I bet they don't have soda or milk or anything. Two, they could use dimes for plates for as big a portion as you get..."

"That's why models like it, Rika..."

Rika sighed. "And besides all that, I do _not_ , under any circumstances, eat snails and fish eggs!"

"Oh, Rika, you just need to develop a taste for it..."

"And besides," Rika tried one last time, hoping that she could get away with pulling a very dirty trick, "I'm underdressed."

"Oh! Of course, hon--Rika--we'll eat someplace a little more casual. Anywhere you want."

Rika smiled. "Come on!" She took her mother's hand and led her to a completely different section of town.

Her mother rarely strayed from upper-class neighborhoods and the designer-boutique section of the business district.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

"Rika, do you come here a lot?" Mrs. Makino asked, looking around at the buildings that didn't scrape the sky, and the nearly-deserted park, and the small businesses with housing above.

"All the time, all my friends are around here." It wasn't like they were in the bad section of town. It was a middle-of-the-middle-class neighborhood. It just wasn't the ritzy section, and Mrs. Makino was far out of her comfort zone.

"Really?" Mrs. Makino seemed shocked. "Kids from your school live here?"

"No, mom, all the girls at school are rich, stuck-up snobs. _My_ friends go to the public school near here."

Mrs. Makino blinked. "We're not exactly poor ourselves, Rika."

Rika rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but I don't really care how much money we have. It doesn't give me the right to be a snob."

"I don't understand--you have a lot of attitude."

"Yes, but I'm not better than anyone. Cooler, street-wiser, maybe, but not better. They think they're better than me just because I think that way."

Mrs. Makino let that sink in for a few minutes. "So...who _are_ your friends?"

"Jen and his little sister live in that apartment building over there." She pointed to Jenrya's building. "And Juri is on this street," she said, motioning to a side street they were passing. "Kazu and Kenta both live over that way," she continued, pointing off in the opposite direction. "And Takato lives on this street. We hang out in the park back there on most Saturdays, and after school. They probably called the house looking for me."

"You seem to hang out with a lot of boys, Rika. Anyone special?"

Rika snorted out a laugh. "Are you kidding? Takato's weird, Kazu's a showoff and a moron, Kenta's a chicken, and Jen...well...he's serious all the time."

"You seem to think highly of them."

Rika was surprised that her mother had any idea of what sarcasm was, much less knew how to use it. "They're okay. A lot better than any other guys I've met. Most guys are all of the above at once, except dorks instead of serious..."

Mrs. Makino pondered that. "Be careful what you say about them, Rika. Someday things will change and you won't want them to know you said those things, or even thought them."

Rika rolled her eyes for the fifth time that day. "We're here." She pulled her mother into a crowded little restaurant with "American-Style Dining" painted on the door. There were the noises of kids running around upstairs, over their heads. The menus were pieces of paper laid on the red gingham-patterned vinyl tablecloth, with a large pane of glass covering the entire table. And it was all in Japanese and English, not French. The silverware was wrapped up in paper napkins. Rika helped herself to two crackers, packaged in a bit of cellophane. Mrs. Makino wasn't sure what to think.

A waitress in jeans took their orders. Rika chose for her mother, who hadn't a clue what she was doing. "I'll have a double cheeseburger with everything. Mom'll have a salad and a regular-size burger, no cheese, no onions. We'll both have fries...oh, and Dr. to drink. And we'll be skipping the ice cream."

After the waitress left, Mrs. Makino leaned forward and whispered, "Doctor?"

Rika grinned. "Dr. Pepper, Mom. It's a soda pop."

Mrs. Makino laughed. "I'm afraid I'm as lost among the lingo here as you would be trying to order in French at Paulo's!"

Rika savored the thought.

"Why are we skipping ice cream? Is it me?"

"No, Mom, it's not your figure. It's just there's somewhere else I want to take you for dessert."

"Oh, okay..."

Mrs. Makino was not impressed with the appearance of her meal, but when she bit into her burger she was quite surprised. "Whoever said presentation is everything lied!" she said.

"That's for sure," Rika said.

Mrs. Makino looked up, smiling oddly at her daughter.

"What?" Rika frowned, wondering what she'd said.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that that's the first time you've outright agreed with me all day."

Rika dropped her gaze back to her plate without comment.

"You know, hon--"

"Rika. My name is Rika."

Mrs. Makino smiled again. "Technically, it's not. I am quite sure they put 'Ruki' on your birth certificate. Why did you switch to Rika, anyway? Did you just not like it or not like _me_ or is there a good reason?"

Rika pondered. She could start a fight, or she could tell the truth. She opted for the truth. "Mom, if I had ever entered a Digimon Card battle with a name that sounded remotely like 'rookie', I would have been laughed out of the country."

Mrs. Makino blinked. "I never thought of that..."

"Of course you didn't. The card game wasn't invented until I was two."

"No, hon, I meant it sounding like rookie. But, anyway, I digress. I was going to say that it's not a crime for you to agree with me."

Rika took a bite from her burger, not sure what to say, or if she should say anything.

* * *

Half-an-hour later, they were finished. Mrs. Makino paid the check and they left.

"That whole meal for the two of us cost a quarter of a cheap dinner at Paulo's..."

"It's called fast food. People--non-celebrity people--buy it because you get a lot of bang for your buck."

"I know, Rika, but I never expected it to taste so good...speaking of taste, where are we going for dessert?"

"This little bakery up the street, they make doughnuts that are absolutely to die for, Mom...and the people are so nice."

"Nice people, huh?"

"Yeah. Here."

Rika pulled her mother into another small business with a home above it. The sign read "Masuda's Bakery".

"Be right with you," a woman called. She came out from the back, with flour-covered hands and a cheery smile. "Oh, hello, Rika. Takato called your house earlier and your grandma said you were out. Is this your mother?"

"Yes, this is my mom."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Makino. I'd shake your hand, but, you know, the flour and all..."

Mrs. Makino smiled. "You must be Takato's mother. It is very nice to meet you."

"Thanks. So, can I get you anything, Rika?"

The Masuda bakery wasn't famous, but they did good business because of their sweets. "Mmm...two chocolate doughnuts with sprinkles, two of the big lemon cookies, and two of the marmalade-filled doughnuts."

"Coming right up." Mrs. Masuda pulled a white paper bag out of a box and began filling it with Rika's request.

Two voices laughing came down the stairs. "Hey, Mom, Kazu and I are headed for the park!" Takato stuck his head out into the shop. "Rika! Hey! What's up?"

"Oh, you know, just out with my mom...I'll tell you about it _later_." She drew a finger across her throat and mouthed "Can the jokes."

Takato's eyes widened, and he nodded. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Makino. Gotta run!"

Hirokazu's face briefly appeared in the doorway, and he raised an eyebrow at Rika, or more likely her mother, but Takato grabbed his arm and dragged him out the back way.

"Here you go, Rika," Mrs. Masuda said, and rang it up for Mrs. Makino.

Rika led her mother back outside and handed her one of the chocolate doughnuts, taking the other one for herself.

"This is delicious!"

"Takato's parents are good bakers, huh?"

Mrs. Makino nodded, smiling around her doughnut. "So, that was Takato in the doorway?"

"Yeah, and his buddy Kazu in the stupid visor."

"Where are we going now? It's your turn."

Rika had almost forgotten. They were still in her sector, and it was her turn to act as guide.

"Follow me."

Rika took her mother around the long way, avoiding the alleyways she normally cut through. Her mother didn't have the shoes for it, just a pair of mint-green sandals.

"The Store" was what Rika and her card-game acquaintances called it. Its real name was "Shoji's DigiShop". A sign in the window said "We buy, sell, and trade cards", and others bragged "Widest selection in Tokyo", "Booster Decks and Starter Sets", "Assorted Digimon Merchandise--manga, posters, figurines, and more". They went inside the shop.

The place had the same smell as a new package of paper. The side walls were blue, and the front wall was entirely glass except for the bottom foot or so, which was yellow. The tile floor was glossy black, so clean you could almost see your reflection. There was music from the American Digimon soundtrack playing from a small boom box behind the glass counter, a used jewelry case along one wall that stored the rare--meaning expensive--cards on shelves arranged like mini-bleachers. The cash register sat squarely on top, with handwritten signs and fading Digimon stickers stuck all over it. The back wall was made entirely of pegboard painted yellow, and there were as many hooks as humanly possible threaded into it. Each hook bore several packs of cards, and a sign warned "Broke the seal? Bought the pack." The wall opposite the cash register had shelves laden with videos of the anime, books about Digimon--the card game, stories based on the episodes, price guides for collectors--and a small section was glassed-in, reserved for the video game. At the end of the shelves nearest the window was a comic-book rack for the mangas. At the opposite end there were more, smaller shelves, holding the cards that he had traded and were up for re-trade or purchase, bearing tags like "400 yen or equal-rarity card". In the center of the small shop were more shelves, containing bulkier merchandise. Stuffed animals, bedsheet sets, school supplies, figurines, anything and everything, all emblazoned with a Digimon or the logo.

"Hey, Shoji-san," Rika said.

"Ah, my favorite customer. Who's your friend?"

"Just my mom."

"Ah." The thirty-something man behind the counter nodded.

Mrs. Makino looked at everything over Rika's shoulder, too many questions to ask any.

Rika continued to converse with Shoji throughout the tiny shop. She glanced at the comic rack and looked up, dissatisfied. "Where's the latest one?"

"Shoulda been here yesterday, I know. The truck had problems night before last. Should get here tomorrow morning."

She glanced over the books, and video games. She browsed up the aisles. "When did they come out with a Terriermon plushie?"

"Oh, not long ago. Woulda had 'em in sooner but I had some troubles with the supplier. Remember a few weeks ago when I had all those Tanemon plushies half-price?"

Rika smiled. "Yeah, I wondered."

"They told me to invest in some penmanship classes. Why'd ya ask? You like Terriermon?"

"No, but I just did one of my friends a favor by finding it. His little sister is always taking Terriermon--um, his Terriermon card. She loves Terriermon. If he gets her one of these, she might stay out of his stuff."

Shoji chuckled. "They're gonna have a digivolving Terriermon figurine soon."

"I don't think she likes Gargomon."

"Oh, you heard, then? I hadn't even heard what they were going to have it digivolve to. Gargomon, huh? More logical than some of the others listed on the Terriermon card. Gargomon looks most like Terriermon, y'know?"

 _Genius, Rika..._ "It was just a guess, Shoji-san. I hadn't heard what it's digivolving to. It only makes sense, though, like you said, Gargomon looks like Terriermon."

Finally, Rika headed for the cards. She glanced over the unglassed ones by the back. "I have all these..." she complained.

"I'm not surprised. I think you have all of them. If you didn't read the comics, I'd never make money off you, because every time you buy a pack of cards, you end up selling it all back to me."

"I'm looking for that one card, Shoji-san. I call every store around on a weekly basis and I haven't ever found one anywhere."

"There are only about a thousand of the Taomon card in circulation, and collectors don't like to let go of it. I heard about one collector, oh, back a few months ago, who sold his for 20,000 yen."

"You're kidding."

"No, I was shocked too, but he was in America. Authentic Japanese cards are harder to get. But still, two hundred American dollars?"

"Really."

"Why is the Taomon card such a big deal with you, anyway?"

"Oh, I need a better card to digivolve my Renamon and Kyubimon cards to."

"You like Renamon?"

"She's my favorite. She's really great, I use her in card battles all the time."

"Well, you're the Digmon Queen. You never lose, so why change strategies now?"

Rika nodded.

"By the way..."

"Yeah?"

"If I ever did get a Taomon card, it'd be under the glass, not on the shelves."

Rika raised an eyebrow and walked over to the glass case. Lots of rare cards.

The cards had a rarity indicator on the side. Each dash, or mark, meant a higher level of rarity. The more marks, the rarer. Cards with up to three marks were very common and were often scorned by serious collectors. Most cards had between four and seven marks, and were okay, but not the top-of-the-line for battle. The rarest--including the Taomon card--had ten marks. All the cards under glass had at least eight marks. Shoji charged strictly by marks--100 yen per mark or cards with a total of an equal number of marks. If you wanted a nine-mark card, you could trade a five-mark, a three-mark, and a one-mark.

Rika glanced over them, she had the majority of them, and the rest wouldn't do her deck much good--except...

"Oh my word, you _have_ a _Taomon_ card! And only a thousand yen..." Rika fished her ever-thin wallet from her back pocket. "...that I don't have."

"I could set it aside for you..."

"Nah, Shoji-san, there'll be other days..."

For the first time since they had entered the shop, Mrs. Makino spoke. "For goodness sakes, Rika, it's only a thousand yen. What happened to your allowance? Nevermind. Let me buy it for you."

Rika blinked. "You'd...?...Thanks." _Don't break down in front of Shoji-san. Don't break down in front of Shoji-san. Don't break down in front of Shoji-san._

Shoji was more than glad to sell the much-sought-after card to his favorite customer. When Rika and her mother finally left the store, Rika stuck the card immediately into her brown leather card case, clipped to her belt.

"Rika, hon, the brown leather on the black belt...bad fashion statement..."

"I don't care about clothes."

"Why not? Hon, how you dress is a statement of who you are."

"I know, and my statement is that I'm not perfect! I _do_ dress as I want to be thought of."

Mrs. Makino simply couldn't bring herself to understand. She kept her feet moving steadily, waiting for Rika to offer some sort of explanation.

"Mom, look, if clothes are your life, fine, they're your life. But if you don't mind, they're just not part of mine, and I wish you'd stop pushing me."

"Is that how you really feel, Rika? Really?"

"Mom, Grandma said you bought me that dress because you wanted to please me."

"Well, of course, Rika. If I had had a dress like that at your age, I would have been thrilled."

"But I'm not like that. You can ask Grandma, I told her that if you wanted to make me happy that you should start trying to find out what I like instead of making me like what you like."

Mrs. Makino looked down at her daughter. "I think we've both been doing that all day today. Finding out about each other, I mean."

Rika looked up at her. "We haven't argued all day, either."

Mrs. Makino smiled. "We haven't, at that."

"It's gotta be some kind of record."

Mrs. Makino laughed and put and arm around Rika's shoulder in a kind of walking hug. "I can't remember the last time we were together and didn't argue."

"Maybe this 'learning about each other thing' is something we need to keep up."

"Maybe so, Rika. Maybe so. Next week, you could invite some of your friends over for cookies or something."

Rika sighed. "Mom..."

"Be patient, hon--Rika, I'm still learning about you."

Rika smiled. "Yeah, you are. Okay, listen, cookies make a totally lame main attraction. Now, I could invite my friends over for a mini-card tournament, and have cookies on the side, and that would be cool."

"Cool? Is that something like fashionable?" Mrs. Makino teased.

Rika smiled, rolling her eyes yet again. "Something like that, Mom."

"Hey, does this mean we're going to stop arguing?"

"I doubt it...but we're gonna cut back. We'll definitely cut back..."

"Oh, by the way, maybe I could learn this card game of yours sometime. I think it would really help me understand why I just paid a thousand yen for a little piece of card stock..."


End file.
